


Make It Up to Me

by tamarussia



Category: NG (Visual Novel)
Genre: But Mostly Smut, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, amanome gets his guts rearranged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22070902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamarussia/pseuds/tamarussia
Summary: Amanome is dragged along for yet another ghost adventure but Akira promises a treat. If said treat is Amanome getting fucked within an inch of his life, well, who's to judge?No spoilers. Set after the events of NG.
Relationships: Amanome Seiji/Kijima Akira
Comments: 15
Kudos: 118





	Make It Up to Me

If Seiji could coherently form a full complex sentence, he would probably be cursing Akira for having them both up at 7 A.M to follow up on yet another ghost case. Akira begged him (if going, ‘Hey, I really need your help with this,’ counts as begging) to tag along for reconnaissance at the motel the haunting was said to originate in. ‘Reconnaissance’ really meant ‘using Seiji’s connections to pull some strings’, but hey, semantics. Akira knew Seiji considered being awake before 9 a crime to humanity, so he took it upon himself to drive them there to the motel and then back to Akira’s apartment on his bike, promising to make it up to him. ‘Akira’ and ‘favors’ was a rare sentence, so he had been understandably excited. The fact that Seiji was now currently getting plowed into the mattress was just the cherry on top of a fantastic sundae, he thought. 

_If_ Seiji could think straight, which was out of the question – Akira was fucking him like a man on a mission, thrusts sharp and just hard enough to make Seiji’s toes curl.

“A-Akira, I - _fuck!_ ” he tries to get out in between thrusts, but it’s cut short with a choked out expletive. Akira doesn’t even blink, maintaining his unforgiving pace. In the light filtering though the small apartment, he is a sight to behold: muscles flexed as he kept a tight grip on Seiji’s thin waist, skin glistening with the thin sheen of sweat covering him. Akira keeps his gaze locked onto Seiji, focusing on the way his face was twisted up in pleasure as he railed him, how he was white-knuckling Akira’s thin sheets. At a particularly deep thrust, Seiji cries out.

_“Shit -!”_ he yells, a hand flying to his mouth on instinct to try to minimize the sounds spilling out of his mouth. Akira is just as fast, reaching down to move his hand and pin it to the bed.

“I..I need to hear you,” Akira grinds out, slowing down just enough to give bend down and give Seiji a quick, open-mouthed kiss. The slight change in angle has Seiji whimpering.

“Fuck, Akira, holy fucking shit,” he babbles, clutching tightly to Akira’s shoulders. Akira moving inside him felt so _good_ , Seiji felt like he could barely breathe, the air being punched out of his lungs with every hard thrust. Akira shifts once more, sitting back and readjusting his grip before picking up the pace again, and _oh,_ this _angle_ –

“Akira!” Seiji gives out something close to a scream, eyes screwed shut. Akira licks his lips, tasting salt.

“Yeah? Right there?” he says but doesn’t give Seiji the chance to answer before doubling his efforts. Lights burst in Seiji’s eyes. It only takes a few more seconds of such a brutal pace before Seiji is flung over the edge, his back bowing as he goes rigid and comes hard, letting out a harsh yell.

But Akira doesn’t stop – he in fact hardly slows down, leaning down close to plant a hand on the bed for stability.

Seiji really does scream then.

The hurtle into overstimulation lights his body ablaze. It’s overwhelming, and as Akira continues to piston into him all Seiji can do is hang on for the ride and try not to fly apart.

“Oh _fuck!”_ he shouts, loud enough for the entire building to hear. He felt like his ears were ringing; he closes his eyes tight against the onslaught of pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck, _Akira,_ oh my fucking _god_ \- !” He grabs on tighter to Akira, letting out a litany of curses as Akira slams him soundly into the bed.

“You – oh my god, Akira please, please, please I –“ he says, already fast approaching another orgasm.

Akira groans low. “S-Seiji,” he says in response. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters, then swallows heavily.

“Come on.” He lifts himself a bit to reach a hand up to grab Seiji by jaw. “Look at me.”

Seiji’s eyes fly open and Akira rewards him with a kiss.

“Look at me,” Akira repeats. Seiji can only moan at him, a clipped, reedy sound. “Are you close?” Akira asks. Seiji nods as best he can. Akira kisses him again and moans with him, picking up his pace.

Seiji believed he would be catapulted into the stratosphere with how much pleasure Akira was driving into him. Akira was really fucking him now, rabbit-fast thrusts that makes Seiji feel like he was being split in two. It was too much. He starts begging.

“Please, Akira, please, please pleasepleaseplease –“ He feels likes he’s grabbing a live wire. “Holy _fuck_ , please, I can’t fucking take it –“ Akira quiets him with another kiss, then let go of his jaw.

“Then – _fuck_ – come again for me,” Akira says. His thrusts start to falter, but he focuses and keeps his speed. “Give it to me, Seiji, _please_ , I love you –“

_Oh._

And that does it: the rope in Seiji’s belly snaps and he sees stars as comes _hard_ , a high keen tearing itself from his throat. He screams again, his whole body going taut and his fingers dig into Akira’s flesh as he spasms, painting both of their bodies white. Akira almost loses his grip at Seiji’s squirming but holds fast, giving a few more good thrusts before gritting his teeth as he lets out a guttural moan.

“ _Fuck,”_ Akira bites out. He tightens his grip minutely as he finishes inside of him, and Seiji clings desperately to his shoulders as Akira grinds down, arms trembling. Seiji shudders and cries out again, legs shaking as he comes back down from the heavens. Seiji imagines this is how it feels to be utterly fucked out – his thoughts are scattered, like someone lit fireworks behind his eyelids and jumbled his neurons, and he’s pleasantly sore. He feels wrecked; his body continues to shake as he gulps down air. Akira peels his fingers from the bruises they’ve started to create at Seiji’s waist and barely stops himself from collapsing on top of him. It’s a while before either of them speaks.

“Akira, you fucking maniac,” Seiji manages to get out, still panting, “what are you trying to do, kill me?” Akira laughs a little before rolling over to his side and plopping down soundly on the bed. He wipes the sweat off his brow.

“Imagine? Death by dick,” he snickers. Seiji is too worn to hit him for his comment.

“I guess you weren’t joking when you said you’d make this morning up to me,” he says instead. He still feels a little stunned. Akira peers at him before reaching over to plant a soft kiss on Seiji’s lips.

“I felt a little bad,” he confesses. Seiji grins at that.

“Genuine feelings from you? Color me shocked,” he teases, and barely dodges the hand flying at his face. “Alright, alright, I love you too, you moron.”

This time it’s Akira’s turn to look stunned. To his credit, he recovers fast enough, unable to stop a small smile from growing on his face. Seiji shoves weakly at him.

“Don’t get all mushy now,” he says, but allows Akira to pull him into an embrace. He rearranges his legs to better fit on the twin bed and cringes at the feeling of spent sliding out of him. “Okay, I’ll give you five minutes before I’m running to the shower.” Akira just nods and closes his eyes.

“Five minutes,” he repeats.

They both end up falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> hi please tell me nice things cause holy shit did i struggle writing this lmao


End file.
